


Saudade

by Theartfulldodger



Series: Drarropoly '20: Founder's Edition [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, For what can never be, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Sad Ending, Thunderstorms, Weddings, the longing, the yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27923242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theartfulldodger/pseuds/Theartfulldodger
Summary: Saudade, n. - "a vague and constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist, for something other than the present, a turning towards the past or towards the future; not an active discontent or poignant sadness but an indolent dreaming wistfulness."-A.F.G. Bell, 1912
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Drarropoly '20: Founder's Edition [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025722
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18
Collections: Drarropoly '20: Founders Edition





	Saudade

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a part of Drarropoly 2020. A huge thank you to [Rei382](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rei382/pseuds/Rei382) for the beta!

“You know, it’s supposed to be lucky if it rains on your wedding day.” 

The words are muffled from the steady downpour and are distorted even further by Draco’s heavy umbrella charm. He immediately recognizes the speaker, all the same.

“Try explaining that to Pansy,” Draco says, just before the ground vibrates under his feet from a violent crack of thunder.

Harry just chuckles before joining Draco on the garden bench, tucked away from the excitement and chaos of the reception. Harry sits with one leg folded underneath of him while the other taps a rhythm into the dirt. Their umbrella charms glow a bit brighter around the edges where they overlap above their heads.

Draco turns to face Harry and brings his foot up to rest his arms against his knee before asking, “I’m sure Ginevra’s not bothered in the slightest, is she?”

The corners of Harry’s eyes crease a bit as he smiles. “Not at all. I don’t think a hoard of rabid dragons could have ruined this day for her. Sorry you didn’t have it so easy, being Parkinson’s best man.”

“Understatement of the century, that is.”

He briefly recalls the state of panic and questionable sobriety he found Pansy in early that morning. Draco did his best to convince her that she deserved this, to be happy and wanted and loved. He remembered the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach when it felt like he was talking to his own reflection. Typical for them at their best and their worst, they’d both ended up huddled on her bedroom floor for an agonizing, cathartic cry. Eventually, Pansy had turned to Draco, mascara smudged and eyes red from tears, to say, “You’re right, Draco. I deserve to be happy with the person I love. But you know what, darling? You do too.”

He and Harry sit in a comfortable silence, enjoying the peace of the rain and thunder. The lanterns from the reception tent are already glowing in the dark, the long summer day cut short by the evening storm. The Burrow lurks crookedly in the distance, now fully restored to its former glory. Draco can still hear the echoes of music and laughter from the tent behind the Burrow. Pansy and Ginevra’s wedding is the first event the Weasleys have hosted since the War. There’s an oddly fitting metaphor in there somewhere, Draco thinks, but he’s too tired to read too much into it. 

Occasionally a web of lightning illuminates the tumultuous sky. Resting his chin on his knee, Draco watches the flashes of light outline the tip of Harry’s nose, the stray curl on his forehead. The moment leeches similar images from the recesses of Draco’s mind: the same lines of Harry’s face softened by the muted glow of a fire, the way Harry’s whole chest shook when he laughed at Draco’s snark, and nights of gentle, explorative touches that grew more desperate and courageous. 

Harry turns towards Draco and leans his elbow against the back of the bench. Green eyes settle on Draco in such a familiar and careful way. That one look is all Draco needs to know that Harry’s thoughts echo his own. That one look is all it takes to make Draco's chest ache with the impossibility of it all.

“I’ve missed you, Harry,” he says as another clap of thunder trembles deep in the marrow of his bones.

There's a melancholy that colors Harry's eyes as he whispers, “I’ve missed you, too, Draco.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Come say hello [on Tumblr](https://graymatters.tumblr.com/).


End file.
